


in its light alone

by qelos (midheaven)



Series: a song is fireworks [6]
Category: Hinatazaka46 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midheaven/pseuds/qelos
Summary: the front of your gate appears beside kumi, her having moved aside so it would be visible. the nameplate illuminated, the familiarsasakiclear as day.“i’m outside.”mirei keeps getting caught off-guard.
Relationships: Sasaki Kumi/Sasaki Mirei
Series: a song is fireworks [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912633
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	in its light alone

**Author's Note:**

> ya fav is back with unnecessarily niche sakamichi pairing: part six. tho to be fair, wsasaki has no business being this niche, considering how soul-destroying their captain/centre dynamic was during hashiridasu shunkan. but it’s also entirely possible that i was the only one who saw it, knowing my ... weirdness.
> 
> for the sake of this fic kumi is only a year older than mirei.
> 
> title from ise.

久方の  
なかに生ひたる  
里なれば  
光をのみぞ  
頼むべらなる  
伊勢

  
  
  


you let your phone ring thrice before picking it up. 

“hi,” you greet. 

“ _hey, mirei_ ,” kumi’s voice comes, a little worn. a little tired. “ _hold on, let me just—_ ”

a swelling sound. kumi’s face appears on your screen. she’s walking, but you frown at the sight. the scenery around her is too quiet. too empty. nothing like the tokyo streets you’d imagined. 

your curiosity gets the better of you. “where are you?” you ask.

“ _i’m outside_ ,” she says, her voice accompanied by the rhythm of her steps. 

you roll your eyes. “i can see that.”

“ _no, mirei_.”

she adjusts her phone, and you realise why the scenery unsettles you. it’s too familiar, too—

the front of your gate appears beside kumi, her having moved aside so it would be visible. the nameplate illuminated, the familiar _sasaki_ clear as day. 

“ _i’m outside_.”

  
  


kumi had developed an odd habit since entering university.

she sends you an email—an _email_ —one day. no warning, no foreboding. only a notification that you get in the middle of the day. you tap it open and the only message kumi wrote reads: _figured you’d be tired of usj. your parents already know._

there’s two attachments.

the first, a shinkansen ticket to tokyo, scheduled soon after kumi’s semester ends. the other a ticket to disneyland.

you shoot kumi a message: _you’re crazy, btw._

 _crazy for you ;)_ , she replies. 

she’s never done this before. never anything this grand. kumi, always gentler, always quieter around you. not the sanguine loudmouth she’s known to be—your kumi’s always been more tender.

but you imagine, your kumi setting aside some of the money she earns as a library assistant. asking your parents for the rest of the fees she can’t cover. brows set, lips between her teeth. and there’s that pang again—that longing, that cave in your chest that’s been void since you saw her off at the train station.

you’ll try and convince her that you’ll pay for it after taking a summer job. but for now—

 _i can’t wait_ , you text her back, and set your phone aside.

  
  


“ _hold on—let me just get—there. can you see it, mirei?”_

you try and watch films on friday nights, you and kumi navigating screen-sharing and the mechanics of long-distance. it takes a few seconds, but her video player eventually appears on your screen.

you peer at the upper left-hand corner. 

“a documentary?” you ask. 

“ _yeah!_ ” kumi replies, and there’s that slight breath at the edge of her voice. when she’s excited, or nervous, or both. “ _icarus. yeah, it’s—watched it for my bioethics class, mirei, it’s so good, he didn’t even mean to uncover the scandal, he was just_ —”

there’s still the oddness, the shock. you’d expected a date movie, not a class one. but with the way kumi sounds—if you close your eyes you can see it. her hands waving. her lashes fluttering. her shoulders forward, leaning closer to you.

so you hum, and agree, and let kumi press play. 

she talks to you throughout, explaining and simplifying, and that’s how you fall asleep. 

  
  


you’re late. 

you wake up to the sun drenching your room in light. your stomach drops because—

the team was supposed to meet at six-thirty. you’re always supposed to be early by a half hour. you grab your phone as soon as you realise and call shiho.

“ _she told me you’d call me instead of checking your notifications first,_ ” she says, foregoing a greeting. 

“my—what?” you transfer your phone to your other ear. “kato—”

“ _check your texts._ ”

despite your confusion, you follow. take your phone so it’s in front of you. browse through the message previews. 

_we turned off your alarm when you weren’t looking,_ a text from shiho reads, followed by: _you need a better passcode._

“why did you—”

“ _kumi called me. still thinks she’s captain as if she didn’t pass it to me_ ,” shiho replies. “ _told me to let you skip this practice. the freshmen can go get the bats and balls_.”

you sigh and let your head hit the pillow. this past week has been awful, grueling, your exhaustion in having burrowed into your bones. you’d let kumi know as much. 

“ _we’ll be fine, manager-san_ ,” shiho tells you. “ _enjoy your weekend._ ”

you wonder how long this’ll go on. kumi catching you off-guard. her thoughtfulness. her unrelenting kindness. how attuned she is to you, to what you need. even from so far away. 

“have a good session, captain,” you answer, and end the call. 

  
  


“ _oh, by the way,_ ” kumi says, and through the screen you see her eyes go a little wider. a little brighter. “ _i have something to show you.”_

she flips her camera and heads to her desk. messy, but not enough to warrant concern. stacks of papers. a tumbler on a coaster. three pictures, all framed—of her family, of the team, of her and you. it’s always been her favourite, both of you putting on a silly face in the school’s hallway. 

kumi adjusts her phone and her laptop screen comes into view. the focus adjusts. comes clearer. you squint and see—

kumi’s midterm grades for the semester. 

_all top marks._

“kumi!” you exclaim. “did you—did you _really?_ ”

“ _don’t be so surprised,_ ” kumi says. indignant. but humorous still. she flips her camera back so her face fills your screen. 

there, you see it—her unbridled joy, her relief. but also the cost: the hollow in her cheeks, the dark circles under her eyes. subconsciously, again, you reach out and thumb them through your screen. your cleaning cloth has gone worn from all the fingerprints you’d had to wipe off. 

“your parents must be ecstatic,” you say, bringing a knee up to your chest. 

“ _they don’t know yet_ ,” kumi tells you. her face growing softer. fonder. “ _you’re the person i want to celebrate this with._ ”

  
  


the next day, she calls you. 

she calls you and gives her biggest surprise yet. shows you how she’s right in front of your house.

“ _i’m outside_ ,” she says. cheeky. like she’d just made a clever pun. 

“you’re—”

for a few, cruel moments you can’t catch your breath. frozen. stuck to your bed. but there’s kumi’s expectant, smiling face, and you can barely move fast enough.

your door swings open. your feet are heavy, thudding as you rush down the stairs. your mother’s calls of concern go ignored. you finally, _finally_ open the front door, rush to your gate. you’re heaving when you get the last lock to unlatch, and—

there stands kumi. 

she puts her phone down. smiles. 

you put your fingers to your mouth, stifle a gasp. it’s been six and a half months. twenty-six weeks. twenty-six weeks of having your cellphone screen as the closest kumi can get to you. of not hearing her voice in club practice. of not having the scent of her hair in your clothes.

her face is older. kinder. university is a beast that’s been bearing down on her. but in the dim streetlight, her eyes are bright.

you reach out. put a hand on her chest. feel her warmth, the thrumming underneath her skin. you tap on her shoulder, listless.

“you’re—you have class tomorrow,” you say, because you can’t find the words for anything else you're feeling. 

“i told you i wanted to celebrate with you.” she shrugs. “i’m taking the first shinkansen out. but for now—”

she puts a hand over yours. 

“i’m back,” she greets. 

you smile. “welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic arose from a very strange image i had ... like before mikuni arrived, kumi & mirei were the two tallest, right, so i just kind of had this image of them locking eyes when the group is altogether and they obviously only see each other (because, well, everyone else is shorter). and i didn’t even write it in this LMAAAAOOO. wsasaki were also my first ship in 46, before naomiho grabbed me by the neck, then kakiseira bodyslammed me to the ground after that.
> 
> please feel free to leave your thoughts here or on my [cc](http://curiouscat.me/pisceshorizon), talking about these girls is always a delight for me. thanks for reading! ♡


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